(White) Collar Optional
by DTS
Summary: Sequel to "Psychic in the City" - In New York, Peter and Gus try to track down Neal and Shawn. In California, Shawn and Neal escape from Ridley. Back at Santa Barbara, the team becomes suspicious of Ridley's true motives.
1. Chapter 1

This story is not complete yet, but, in my mind, it's close. I just have to make myself get it on paper. I might start quickly with the posting but slow down as I get closer to the unfinished bits.

* * *

Burton Guster woke up slowly, luxuriating in the decadent hotel sheets. He had no need to get up as his pharmaceutical conference ended yesterday. Today was going to be spent sightseeing with his best friend. He rolled over, prepared to start Shawn's wake-up process, but he wasn't there and the bed hadn't been slept in. Gus bolted out of the bed as he remembered what had happened the past two days. Shawn had used the trip to connect with old friends – some in the FBI and one an ex-con. The ex-con, one Neal Caffrey, had pissed off crime boss Mark Ridley years ago and now he was out for revenge by framing both Neal and Shawn. They had been cleared, but the FBI decided to set up surveillance in case Ridley tried to make contact.

Now Shawn was gone. Yes, he had a tendency to wander off like an unsupervised two-year old, so it didn't necessarily mean he had gone off and done something. The rumpled spread could just be from him falling asleep watching TV. He could have just gone for coffee.

Gus used the bathroom and came back out to change. Still no sign of Shawn. He looked around for his cell phone but couldn't find it. He went to the room phone and dialed his own number in order to locate it with no luck. Shawn must've left it somewhere. Right now, it was the least of his worries. He used the hotel phone to call Agent Burke.

"Burke."

"Agent Burke. Peter. It's Burton Guster, Shawn's friend?"

"Gus, right? What's wrong?"

"He wasn't here when I got up and the bed's not been slept it, He's a messy sleeper, so I'd know." Gus' eyes settled on the nightstand between the beds and saw the notepad with Shawn's scribbling. "Damn it, Shawn."

"What did you find?"

"There's a note with what looks like a phone number and meeting place. The damn fool went to meet him!"

"Okay, I'm almost at Neal's and then I'll come get you. If Shawn was smart enough to leave a note, he probably left other signs as well."

"Yeah, you're right. He can be smart when he tries." Gus allowed himself a small smile.

Gus ended the call and sighed. "So help me, Shawn, if you're dead, I will kill you."

* * *

Peter drove the rest of the way to Neal's, worst-case scenarios running through his mind. Most likely Ridley was using one as leverage against the other. After hanging up with Gus, he called the Marshal's Office and asked for an update on Neal's anklet. According to them, he was still home. Maybe Shawn had woken early and headed over. One could hope, anyway.

He parked and checked with the agents on duty who reported no activity. Instead of putting him at ease, it made him more anxious.

He was met at the door by June who was on her way out to walk Bugsy. "Good morning, Peter. I don't know if Neal's awake yet. I believe he had a late night."

Peter paused on the stairs. "Did he have any visitors?"

"Not that I'm aware of." She started out the door. "I've had Wendy make some coffee for your agents!" she called over her shoulder.

Peter shook his head. Neal's landlady never failed to surprise him.

He knocked on Neal's door but there was no answer. He opened it slowly. "Neal?" He walked into the apartment carefully, hand resting at his holster. The apartment was empty. "Damn it, Neal!"

Peter called Jones. "Neal and Shawn are missing. Get a trace on Shawn's phone and I'll tell the Marshals that someone's hacked them." He checked out the apartment. There was nothing he could see with such a cursory search. He'd have the agents outside come up and keep an eye on the place.

Jones was saying something. "What?"

"Do you need me out there?"

"No. I'm going by Shawn's hotel to pick up his friend. Apparently Shawn left a note of a meet with a phone number. When I'm done there, I'll be in." He ended the call. With one last look around the apartment, Peter left.

* * *

Gus used the wait time to pack knowing he wouldn't have a chance later. He'd just leave the bags with the concierge until he knew when he was leaving.

He was on his knees looking under Shawn's bed for his phone when there was a knock on the door. He looked around for something, anything to use. He spotted a kitschy statuette on the desk and raised it over his shoulder as he approached the door. "Who is it?"

"Gus, it's Peter."

Gus peered through the peephole to see the agent. He lowered the statuette as he unlocked the door and let Peter inside.

"Thanks for calling me, Gus."

"I wasn't sure what else to do. I didn't see the note until I was talking with you." He showed Peter the paper.

"When did you last see him?"

"I fell asleep while watching a movie. Maybe 10:30?"

"And what time did you wake up?"

"Maybe around 7:30. I didn't look at the clock. I should've called the moment I realized he was gone."

"That's a nine-hour window. I don't think your calling me any earlier would have made a difference. They're most likely at their destination already." Peter ripped the page off the notebook. "Too bad Shawn didn't think to jot down the time as well. The phone's most likely a burner, but we should be able to access Shawn's phone records and find out when the call was made."

A frisson of fear crept up Gus' spine. "Oh, Lord."

"What? Did you remember something?"

"I have to call Mr. Spencer and tell him Shawn's missing." He patted his pockets before remembering he didn't have his phone. "May I use your phone? I can't find mine."

"We'll call him from the car." Peter picked up Shawn's bag.

Gus took one last look around the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He then picked up his bag and followed Peter out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** I didn't plan to do this once a week, but I think it's a good idea until my muse kicks into top gear instead of just being a Sunday driver. So it'll be Wednesdays at some point, depending on my schedule.

* * *

When he arrived at work, Peter motioned for Jones to fall in behind Gus. He caught Diana's eye and she held up an index finger, indicating she'd be right there.

Once in his office, he set Shawn's bag down in the corner and Gus put his down next to it. After a quick introduction once Diana joined them, Peter asked for the details. "Any luck tracking GPS on either?"

"The last reading we have for Caffrey was going on midnight in his apartment then it just went dark. No alarms or calls from the Marshals'. The last read from Shawn's phone was about 12:30 on West 43rd, not too far from Times Square."

"Okay, so he calls Shawn and asks him to meet somewhere public."

"And nowhere's more public than Times Square," interjected Jones.

"Outside, he'd have no control over the proceedings; too easy for them to mingle in the crowd and get away. We need to check the bars and restaurants in the area." Peter sawn Gus pull the note from his jacket pocket. "You have something, Gus?"

"I think I know the restaurant. 'HRC' is Hard Rock Café. The music would be loud enough to keep them from being overheard."

Jones looked at Gus. "Good call."

"Been working with Shawn too long."

"Right. Gus, you and I will head over to the Hard Rock and 43rd. Jones, notify Forensics and then see what you can find on the cameras in the area."

* * *

Gus had to admire Peter's driving as they got closer to Times Square and the heavy traffic – both cars and pedestrian. He parked on West 43rd near the Foxwoods Theatre, home of the most expensive Broadway production ever. He then reached over to the glove compartment, pulled out some latex gloves and handed a pair to Gus. "Keep 'em in your pocket until you need 'em."

Gus got out of the car and searched along one side while Peter took the other. He wished he had Shawn's eyes right now. He'd have seen everything by now like that bright green… "Peter!"

The agent crossed the street. "What've you got?"

Gus pointed to the bright green case. "It's Shawn's."

Peter looked around and spotted another shattered phone. "That could be Neal's. We'll wait for Forensics-"

They heard sirens and saw flashing lights approaching.

"Speak of the devil."

When Peter was done directing the newcomers, he and Gus walked around the corner into Times Square. Gus tried not to gawp. It was even more impressive in person. With all the neon, ads and people, he didn't know where to look first. He couldn't believe he was finally here and Shawn wasn't with him.

"Gus?"

Gus looked at the agent. "Huh?"

"Let's go." Peter turned to go into the restaurant.

Gus followed him inside. "Sorry. Shawn and I were going to come here today."

"We'll find them, Gus. They were taken, not killed. Ridley must have plans for them."

"Let's hope it includes keeping them alive for a while."

Once inside, Peter flashed his badge at a passing server and asked to see the manager. When the manager – a woman in her mid-thirties – came out, Peter explained the situation and asked to see the surveillance footage from around midnight.

"Of course Right this way." She led them to a small office with a computer monitor on which four screens showed different areas of the restaurant. She sat down at the desk and tapped a few keys to bring up the right time. She then brought up the camera aimed at the entrance, fast forwarding.

"Stop!"

She did so and Peter made a note of the time. "Can we track them to a table?"

The manager tapped a few more keys and enlarged a different screen. Now they could see Neal and Ridley as they took a booth, sitting on opposite sides of the table. Ridley ordered three beers. He had already called Shawn at this point. And there he was. Shawn took a seat next to Neal. The three men drank their beers. At least Ridley did. Shawn and Neal only took sips to make it look like everything was normal. When done, Ridley paid the server and the three left the screen.

"Do you have cameras at the back?" Gus asked.

"To keep an eye on the loading dock, yeah." She pulled up another camera just as her phone rang. "Excuse me." She left the room to answer the call.

As the phone rang, Gus had reached for his out of habit. Then he realized where it was. He looked over at Peter who was watching the feed. Shawn and Neal exited followed by Ridley. "Damn it, Shawn."

"You can't blame Shawn, Gus. Ridley was probably threatening Neal or you. At least he left us clues."

"He did more than that. He knew he'd have to turn over his own phone, so he kept mine as a backup."

Peter turned away from the screen to look at him. "Are you sure?"

"I know I left my phone on the night stand last night. When I woke up it was gone and so was Shawn."

"And he gave us both your numbers 'in case you need to turn on the GPS'." Peter grabbed his phone and dialed. "Diana, pull up the GPS for Gus' phone. Shawn took it last night." He looked at Gus for the number. Gus told him and Peter relayed it to Diana.

Gus all but chewed on his bottom lip as he waited. After what seemed like ages, Peter ended the call and Gus did not like the look on his face. "What? What did she say?"

"Kennedy Airport."

Gus fell into the desk chair. How were they going to find Shawn and Neal now? They could be anywhere in the world!


	3. Chapter 3

Shawn blinked a few times as he slowly returned to consciousness. There was a dim light showing through small, horizontal windows near the ceiling. _Okay, basement and it's either early morning or evening._ He then noticed he was on a bed – a cot, really – that wasn't too bad, comfort-wise. He looked at his fingers and sent the message for them to wiggle. He smiled when they obeyed. That meant whatever drug Ridley had put in his system was gone. He turned his head and saw Neal stretched out on a matching bed. Neither of them was restrained.

Shawn pressed himself up on his elbows slowly to test for dizziness. Passing that test, he sat up. Good, still not dizzy. He then swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly stood. When he didn't land flat on his face, he gave himself a gold star.

He shuffled on unsteady legs over to Neal's cot. "Neal," he said softly. "Neal." He poked the ex-con in the shoulder. "Wake up."

Neal groaned and swatted away the offending hand. "Go 'way."

"C'mon, dude. You gotta wake up. Gonna need your skills to help get us out of here," Shawn persisted, shaking the other man's shoulder.

"Damn it, Shawn." Neal woke up and took a look around the room. "Basement?"

"Looks like." Shawn looked to the windows. "Getting brighter so it's morning."

"But where?"

"Now that you're awake, you can boost me up to look out the window."

"We're in a basement. There must be something we can use to climb up." Neal stood, swaying a bit on the way up.

"Fine. Since he took Gus' phone, we don't have another light source."

Neal began to feel his way around in the dim light. "How did you think you'd get away with that, anyway?"

"I wasn't expecting him to drug us and stick us on a plane. One or the other, it might have worked."

Shawn heard a small crash and Neal cursed. "I found a crate," he said through what sounded like gritted teeth.

"Bet hoisting me doesn't sound so bad now." He walked over to Neal and the two of them maneuvered the crate over to the brightest window.

Neal motioned to the crate with one hand. "You first."

Shawn stepped gingerly onto the outer edges of the box, gripped the cement of the ledge and pulled himself up. "OK. Palm trees so somewhere warm, but there are pine trees so not necessarily tropical. The street signs look American."

"What about the air? We can narrow things down by humidity."

"It feels more like shore than desert. California or Florida? Can't really tell."

"Let me."

Shawn stepped down and let Neal have a look. The other man twisted around to get a different view. "Looks like hills or mountains in the distance which rules out Florida."

Shawn laughed. "I can't believe he brought me back home."

"It's a big state." Neal stepped down to the floor. "What makes you think we're anywhere near Santa Barbara?"

"The same state is way better than another country."

"Shawn-"

Neal's retort was halted when they heard a key in the lock.

* * *

Back at the office, Peter called on agents to help search the airport. Diana had narrowed down Gus' phone to the domestic terminal so that did away with one headache. He then filled Hughes in on what was happening and that he was getting on the next available flight.

"Just let me know where and when so I can start greasing the gears,"

Peter grabbed his go-bag as well as Shawn's. Without a word, Gus picked up his pack and followed him out.

Jones drove while Diana rode shotgun. Gus simply stared out the window as they headed towards Long Island. "Gus, airports have some if the best surveillance in the country. We'll be able to track them and narrow down where they've gone."

"And if it's out of the country? You won't have jurisdiction."

"But we'll know where they are and contact INTERPOL." Gus made a non-committal "humph". "Is there anyone you need to call?"

"I guess I should call Mr. Spencer, let him know we have a lead."

"Let me just call El and the phone is yours."

"Thanks."

El answered on the second ring. "Hey, hon. What's up?"

Peter took a deep breath and plowed ahead. "Neal and Shawn were abducted and taken to Kennedy. Gus and I will be flying out to wherever and I just wanted to give you a heads-up."

"Oh, my God! Is it the same guy you were talking about last night? I thought you had agents watching over them."

When she stopped for a breath, Peter tried to answer her questions. "Yes, it's the same guy." Peter couldn't help but call up Ridley's face. "We don't really know how Ridley got to Neal, but he called Shawn and told him to meet at the Hard Rock."

"You do what you need to in order to bring them back home. Just let me know where you're going when you can."

"Will do. Love you."

"Me, too, hon."

Peter ended the call. "Not one word," he said to his agents' smiling reflections.

"How did El take it?" asked Diana.

"Like El. Upset, angry. I bet she'll start planning a welcome home dinner." _Or teaming up with Mozzie with all his connections to find Neal and Shawn on their own. _Peter handed his phone to Gus.

"Thanks." Gus took the phone and dialed. At the man's wince, Mr. Spencer must have been in rare form. "That's why I'm calling." He relayed the little information they had. "We're on the way to the airport now." After a moment, Gus handed the phone back to him. "He wants to talk to you."

Peter gingerly lifted the phone to his ear. "Mr. Spencer-"

"Agent Burke, you had agents watching my son's hotel last night waiting for this guy to show," Mr. Spencer stated with controlled fury.

"Yes, but-"

"You neglected to watch for Shawn leaving on his own. He used to work at a hotel so he knows all the ways out."

_Is he absolving me?_ Peter wondered.

"You're not off the hook," Henry said. "I just know Shawn would have found a way out, no matter what."

"He did leave us a note with the phone number and meeting place." Peter didn't want Henry completely blaming Shawn.

"Gus said he took both phones and that's how you got the lead to the airport?"

"Yeah. If not for the airport, we probably would have them already."

"Just give me a call when you learn something, Agent Burke. I haven't told his girlfriend yet or anyone at the police department."

"Gus or I will call you, Mr. Spencer. We will find them."

"I know you will, Agent Burke." Mr. Spencer ended the call.

Peter look at Gus. "Is he always like that?"

"Whenever Shawn's involved, yeah."


	4. Chapter 4

When they reached the terminal, Gus glued himself to Peter's side. They went to Security to check cameras and learn which gate Ridley took them to. The guards were ready to assist, Hughes having called ahead. One of the guards, Jackson, cued up the ETA for Ridley based on when he left the Hard Rock. About 15 minutes into the video, a medical transport van caught Gus' eye. He didn't think much of it until the side door slid open and a man in a wheelchair was lowered. "Oh, my God!" He pointed at the screen. "That's Shawn!"

Peter peered at the screen. "That's one way to transport them without any question. Keep them drugged and unconscious with medical papers. Jackson, follow him so we know the gate."

"Yes, sir."

Once armed with that information, the four of them headed toward the gate to question the personnel. Diana and Jones would ask around to find out what anyone remembered while Peter and Gus would learn the final destination.

Thankfully there wasn't a line at the gate kiosk. The woman behind it was typing at her computer. She looked up at them and smiled brightly. "How can I help you?" Her name badge read 'Melissa'.

Gus was ready with his smooth "hello", but Peter was quicker and held up his badge. "We're looking for three men who passed through this gate early this morning at…"

"2:00," Gus supplied as Peter checked his notes. "Two of them were in wheelchairs."

"My shift started a couple of hours ago so I can't tell you anything about passengers, but I can give you the name of the man I relieved."

"That would be great."

"Sure." She wrote down the contact information and handed the paper to Gus.

"Is this second number his cell?" he asked.

"No, mine." She smiled.

Gus resisted the urge to rub his thumb against the side of his nose. He pulled a number without even using the Pluto line! With a smile, Gus folded the note and slipped it into his shirt pocket, tapping it.

Peter glared at him before turning back to Melissa. "Can you tell us where the plane was going?"

"It was a non-stop to LA."

"That doesn't help much. I can call the LA office and have them start checking surveillance." Peter reached for his phone.

"Wait." Gus turned to Melissa. "What about special travel requests? He was with two passengers requiring wheelchairs. You'd have his name, right?"

"You don't know his name?"

"Oh, we know his name. He's just not using it."

"Okay, let me check." She tapped a few more keys. "Yes, there was a Martin Ellis who travelled with two wheelchairs. I'll see if Los Angeles was the last stop." She used the mouse to pull up another window. "It looks like he had a connection to Santa Barbara."

"Thank you, Melissa," said Peter. "You've been a great help. There's just one more thing…"

Melissa got them tickets on the next flight out. They had about 15 minutes until boarding so Peter was able to call his boss and tell him where they were going as well as tell Jones and Diana to continue working from this end, to even use Lassiter's file. He then made a quick call to his wife before handing Gus the cell.

Gus dialed. "Mr. Spencer, good news."

* * *

"Lassiter, O'Hara, my office!"

At the Chief's call, Lassiter groaned, yet gladly pushed himself away from his desk and the paperwork covering its surface. He looked at his partner as they crossed the bullpen. She'd been distracted all day. He knew he was going to regret it, but… "Are you okay?"

"Huh? Sorry, Carlton. It's just that I haven't heard from Shawn since last night and I'm worried."

"Well, whatever the Chief wants should take your mind off it."

Chief Karen Vick closed the door behind them and motioned for them to sit as she took the seat behind her desk. "I just received a call from the FBI in New York…"

_Oh, Lord, _Lassiter thought,_ what's the twerp done now?_

"A criminal has kidnapped a consultant with the White Collar Division, a Neal-"

"Caffrey," stated Lassiter, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. "Let me guess: he got Spencer, too."

"Apparently, they were drugged and flown out here. The agent on the case is on his way now with Mr. Guster."

"Does Henry know?" asked O'Hara.

Lassiter heard raised voices outside and looked over to see the man in question trying to push his way past McNab. "I would say 'yes'."

Vick motioned for the lanky officer to allow Henry in. "I take it you got the call," he said without preamble.

"Just a few moments ago. I was about to share the details with my detectives. Do you have anything to add?"

"Gus called me this morning to tell me Shawn was missing. There was a meet at some restaurant and they had security footage. Kid took both his phone and Gus' so the GPS signal that led them to Kennedy Airport. Ridley, bought tickets for three to Santa Barbara. The two of them were in wheelchairs."

"Do you have the flight number and time for Ridley?" Vick asked.

"Yeah, Gus sent a text."

Henry handed the phone to the Chief who then passed it to O'Hara. She scribbled down the information before giving the cell back to Henry.

"I want both of you to head to the airport and find out what condition Mr. Spencer and Mr. Caffrey were in when they arrived. Check car rentals and taxi stands so we can narrow down a location."

"Right, Chief." Lassiter stood and headed for the door. He stopped and turned when he realized O'Hara wasn't behind him. She was standing next to Spencer Sr., most likely assuring him about his annoying offspring. Like Henry Spencer needed to hear such platitudes. "O'Hara!" He went back to his desk to grab his jacket and met his partner on the way out.

"Carlton, I didn't think you'd be in such a hurry to help Shawn," she said as they crossed the lot.

"Why else would I be?"

"I don't know. Maybe to get this Ridley guy yourself and thumb your nose at the FBI." She smiled sweetly at him over the roof of the car.

Lassiter closed his eyes and counted to five. He couldn't spare the time to reach ten. "Just get in," he growled.


	5. Chapter 5

When they heard the lock, Neal and Shawn moved the crate away from the window and lay back down on the beds. They then pretended to be in the middle of a game of "I Spy" as Ridley entered carrying a breakfast tray. It was cereal and juice, all in plastic, no edges to be used as weapons.

"I think room service messed up our order," commented Shawn as he sat up. "We ordered eggs and bacon."

"No coffee? That is the worst offense." Neal played along.

"Like I'm going to cook for you two," Ridley set the tray down on another crate. "Caffrey, you first." He motioned to the tray.

Neal scooted off the bed and took one of the bowls and a cup. When he was back on the bed, it was Shawn's turn. As they ate, Ridley opened a door they hadn't seen earlier to reveal a half-bath. "You know, as far as kidnapping accommodations go, this isn't that bad. I mean, an en-suite bath?" He finished his orange juice and put the dishes back on the tray.

"Okay, I'll let breakfast pass since we do have a decent room. And this is fresh-squeezed OJ, not a store brand." Shawn put his bowl and cup on the tray. "What does the activities director have on the agenda today?"

"I have a number of things on my schedule. You, however, will remain here." Ridley picked up the tray. "Oh, I have something to help you pass they time." He reached into his pocket with his free hand and tossed a small box to Neal. "Enjoy your day, gentlemen." He left.

"Does that mean no lunch?" Shawn called after him.

Neal looked at the small box in his hand. "Probably. Do you still win at poker?" He held up the cards.

"Dude, you can't seriously want to play cards now? We gotta book."

"We can't do anything until Ridley leaves. A couple of hands won't kill us." He realized what he said. "Okay, wrong choice of words."

"All right. No more than ten minutes then we watch for him to leave."

Shawn sat on the foot of the bed as Neal shuffled and dealt, keeping everything above board and friendly. He also knew that Shawn would be reading him – unintentionally – so he tried to minimize all tells. They played a few hands. Neal only won one.

"There will be a re-match," he told Shawn as he put the cards back in the box.

"We can't have you on the losing end, can we?" Shawn said as he dragged the crate back to the window.

Neal hurried over to steady it as Shawn climbed onto the crate. "Check the window for weak spots. There might be something in the bathroom we can use."

"You want to MacGyver our way out of here?"

"It's not like we've got anything else to work with."

"The caulk around the window is new so it'll be hard to peel."

"If it's still soft, we might be able to force something through it."

Neal hurried into the bathroom and looked under the sink for anything that could jimmy the latch. There was nothing. Leaving the bathroom, the first thing he saw was his bed. _Maybe…_

"Don't bother with the beds," Shawn told him. "I already checked."

Neal sighed and walked over. "Anything else to narrow down where we are?"

Shawn looked at him, a grin on his face. "A pickup came by blasting the radio, a Santa Barbara station."

"You'll be able to find your way once we get out there?"

"Keep the mountains at our backs and we'll get into the town center or the beach. We then flag down a cop or use a store's phone, whichever comes first."

"Okay, then." Neal went over to Shawn's bed, grabbed the pillow and handed it up. "Careful."

Shawn pressed the pillow up against the window, turned his head away and smashed the window with his elbow. They froze, waiting for some sort of reaction from outside. The rest was rather anti-climactic as they crawled out the window and ran down the road.

* * *

Henry Spencer could only sit still at the police station for so long. Everyone either gave him sympathetic looks or shared tired platitudes and clichés. He knocked on Karen's door and told her he was heading out, unable to wait and do nothing.

She nodded in understanding. "We'll call if we hear anything and I expect you to do the same."

"You know I will." _No need to take up police time looking for my idiot son who walked into a kidnapping._

Once behind the wheel of his truck, Henry let his mind go into detective-mode as his body drove home on automatic pilot. Ridley would have to keep them somewhere isolated – either abandoned or remote. Lassiter and O'Hara were checking the airport side but that wouldn't stop him from checking out some possible neighborhoods. He also was aware that Shawn knew to keep the mountains behind him and head for the ocean.

Decided, Henry drove past the turn for his house and headed for the outer perimeter of the area he plotted in his head as the most likely place to find Shawn before falling into a grid search pattern.

Thirty minutes in, he was garnering suspicious looks. He was becoming dejected but soon saw a stack of pineapples at a produce stand. Normally not one to believe in omens and signs, but seeing Shawn's favorite fruit gave Henry a boost of confidence, a belief that they would find his boy safe. He impulsively parked and bought one. _It's not like Shawn's the only one who eats the stuff,_ he reasoned.

Henry resumed his search. Up ahead, walking away from him, were two men that put him in mind of Shawn and Gus except the one in khakis was white with black hair. As he got closer, he could see they were covered in sweat and dirt. _No, it can't be._ Henry slowed and rolled down his window. "Shawn!"

The men stopped and turned. "Dad?"

Henry just wanted to give Shawn a hug. He hadn't felt this relieved since that time on the pier after Yin. He'd find a chance later. He cleared his throat. "Get in."

Shawn climbed in first followed by Caffrey. Henry dug out his phone and tossed it to Shawn. "Call Karen. Let her know we're on our way." He pulled back into traffic.

"I'd rather get a shower."

"I'd rather you get one too, but we need you to give your statement. Gus and Agent Burke should be landing in about an hour."

Shawn dialed. "Ooh, pineapple. Hey, Chief! Yeah, we're fine. We escaped and Dad found us. We're on our way in now." Shawn ended the call and put the phone on the dashboard. "So, Pops, this is Neal. Neal, this is Papa Bear."

"Shawn, how many times-"

"An honor to meet you, Mr. Spencer. Thank you for finding us."

_At least one of them remembered his manners. How well does it reflect on me that it was the ex-con?_


	6. Chapter 6

Lassiter was ready to strangle the unobservant airline employee. Yes, they saw hundreds, maybe thousands of people, but how could you forget seeing a man with two others in wheelchairs? He needed coffee and was even willing to pay the outrageous price they were asking.

As the barista prepared the drink, he asked, "Are you one of the detectives asking about the guy with the wheelchairs?"

"Yeah," he responded guardedly. "Do you remember seeing him?"

"Sure. He stopped for a large black. Don't get that very often. The guys in the chairs were around 40 with no signs of needing them and I was curious. The guy said something about an Army reunion and how the guys had a severe fear of flying. PTSD or something."

"Did he say anything about where they were going?"

"Just something about a mountain view 'cos he couldn't get it in New York."

Lassiter was pretty impressed. He paid for the drink. "What made them so memorable?"

"Aside from the wheelchairs, they were gor-geous!" The guy smiled.

Lassiter's phone rang. _Oh, thank God!_ He walked away from the counter as he answered. "Lassiter."

"I just heard from Shawn," the Chief told him. "Henry found them and is bringing them in."

He could not believe Spencer's luck. "Great. O'Hara's got a lead on one of those handicapped vans with the wheelchair lift." He looked at his watch. "Guster's plane is due to land soon. We'll wait to pick them up and head straight over."

Phone call done, he located O'Hara by an Arrivals board. He could see she was nervous as she bit her lower lip. "Relax."

"I just don't know what to tell Gus."

"You tell him that Spencer is fine and at the station."

"What?"

She turned to him and Lassiter allowed himself a small smile at the hope in her eyes. "Henry found them and they're on the way to the station now. The Chief just called."

He should have been prepared when she grabbed him in a huge hug. "That's wonderful news!"

He held his arms out to keep his balance – and his coffee from spilling. "O'Hara! Compose yourself!"

She pulled away, becoming professional once more. "I'm sorry, Carlton. Gus' gate is down here."

If there was an extra spring in her step like she was restraining herself from skipping, he wasn't going to say anything.

* * *

Gus was a bundle of nerves. Peter had tried to keep him occupied during the flight, asking about their cases. It had helped somewhat, but now that they were back on the ground, reality reasserted itself.

Once through the gate, Peter stepped aside to check his voice mails. Diana and Jones had narrowed down some names, apparently with some help from Mozzie.

"Gus!"

He turned to see Juliet hurrying his way. "Juliet, I'm so, so sorry-"

She wrapped him in a tight hug. "He's okay! Shawn's okay!" She looked at Peter as she ended the hug. "They both are."

Gus saw Lassiter approaching at a more sedate pace. "Lassiter?"

"The Chief got a call from Spencer. We're to meet them at the station." He held out his had to Peter. "Head Detective Carlton Lassiter."

"Oh, sorry. Agent Peter Burke, Detectives Lassiter and O'Hara," Gus said belatedly. He was still in shock. _Shawn is at the station. That means no hospital was needed which is good. It won't hurt as much when I smack him._

"The car is this way."

Peter was given the honor of riding shotgun. He perused the file Lassiter had put together on Ridley. "Thorough job, Detective. This was done on your own time?"

"It's a hobby. How did you meet Spencer?"

"He helped on a case."

Gus tuned out the conversation as he had already heard the story. He turned to Juliet who was sitting beside him. "How are you doing? You've had a crazy day."

"Not as crazy as yours."

"I was just dreading facing Mr. Spencer. It's one thing to talk over the phone…"

"You kept him updated with every lead. For as long as you and Shawn have been friends, have you ever been able to stop him from doing something?"

Gus cracked a smile. "Best I could do was go along and run interference." He did feel better about his part in this whole thing. If he hadn't been asleep, Shawn would have snuck out when he was in the bathroom.

"This case in New York from 2005, are you sure Ridley's connected?" asked Peter.

"Pretty sure, yeah. The guys that went down were known associates. Why?"

"This is the case that brought Shawn to our attention."

"If he knows that job went south because of Shawn, this revenge thing could include him too." Gus was worried as to what that would mean now.

"That would explain bringing them to Santa Barbara," reasoned Juliet. "But what does he have planned?"

"He tried to discredit Neal by stealing the chalice while Neal was in the same building."

"Maybe he wants to out him as a fake," Lassiter said in a tone that he was amused at the prospect.

Deep in his gut, Gus had a feeling that was probably it.


	7. Chapter 7

Peter barely took in the Spanish Revival that housed the Santa Barbara Police Department. Two friends were inside who still could be in trouble from Ridley despite having escaped. They would have to talk with Neal and Shawn to glean every bit of information they could. Once inside, Peter and Gus signed in at the front desk and Gus was given his ID badge and Peter a visitor's badge.

Peter followed Gus as the man hurried down the hall and into an office. "Shawn!"

He arrived mere seconds later to see Gus smothering his seated best friend in a hug. Neal was watching with a wistful smile. "Neal, if you had wanted to leave New York so badly, we could have arranged something."

"Peter!" Neal's eyes lit up and he stood to greet the agent with a quick hug. "I wasn't sure you'd come."

"C'mon, I followed you to Cape Verde, didn't I? I didn't even need a passport this time."

"Makes you four for four."

"Yes, it does."

Neal looked past Peter and saw Detective O'Hara hugging and kissing Shawn. "So that's the girlfriend."

The woman behind the desk – Chief Vick, going by the nameplate – stood and cleared her throat. "Mr. Guster, welcome home. If someone would care to make the introductions?"

"Chief Karen Vick, this is Special Agent Peter Burke," said Shawn. "Peter, Chief Karen Vick."

Peter held out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Chief."

The Chief took his hand in a firm shake. "Agent Burke."

"And Mr. Sourpuss Grumpyface here," Shawn motioned with his thumb to the figure behind him, "is my dad."

Peter was somewhat embarrassed that he hadn't even noticed Shawn's father earlier. Mr. Spencer stood behind Shawn, arms crossed. His face was stern, no-nonsense, but with Shawn, that was probably a necessity to keep him in line as a kid. Now, especially how he was standing protectively near his son, he was radiating concern. "An honor to finally meet you, Mr. Spencer. I've heard so much about you."

Henry Spencer looked down at his son. "I'm sure." He turned to Peter. "Thanks for all you've done. I know how much of an effort it is."

Neal cleared his throat.

"Head Detective Carlton Lassiter and Detective Juliet O'Hara, this is Neal Caffrey. Neal, Jules and Lassie."

Peter smiled at the nicknames Shawn had for the detectives. He could tell that Juliet liked the name whereas her partner looked resigned. Knowing Shawn, that was probably the least annoying name in his repertoire.

"Caffrey," Lassiter said coolly.

With the reunion over, Peter finally took in the condition of the two men. They were dirty and sweaty with a few scratches on their faces and arms but nothing too deep as to need stitches.

"Let's move this to the conference room where we can talk more comfortably."

Everyone moved to the large table in the adjoining room. Once seated, Neal and Shawn relayed their story as it was recorded to be transcribed later. Lassiter and O'Hara told what they had learned at the airport.

"I was looking through Lassiter's file on Ridley and picked up on something." Peter looked at Shawn. "That last tip you called in New York was one of Ridley's jobs."

"Yeah, he told me last night over beer. Said it was Kermit or something."

"Kismet, Shawn. Fate, destiny."

"I've heard it both ways. Anyway, he was going to sell the chalice and run off with the money leaving Neal and me to take the blame."

"But was that really his plan?" questioned Mr. Spencer. "Sorry, kid, but everything sounds too convenient."

"Misinformation," said Neal. "He told us that story and let us escape." He rubbed his hands along his face and through his hair, "And we fell for it."

"Your emotions were high. You were susceptible," Peter told him. "It happens."

Neal nodded as he failed to hide a yawn.

"I think we should meet back here in a few hours to give everyone a chance to freshen up and eat," said Chief Vick. "We should be able to think more clearly then."

Mr. Spencer looked at Peter. "You have a hotel yet?"

"No. We left in a bit of a hurry."

"Why don't you and Neal come back to my place for lunch? Everyone can get a shower."

"Thank you, Mr. Spencer. That sounds great."

"Yes, Gus, that includes you." He turned to the two detectives. "You're welcome to join us."

"Thanks, Henry, but I think we'll stay and see what we can put together here," responded Lassiter.

Henry nodded in what Peter guessed was thanks and understanding. He then gently nudged his son who had his head down on the table. "C'mon, kid."

Shawn jerked up like he was denying he had fallen asleep. "Huh? What?"

"Back to the house." He helped Shawn stand. "Two are gonna have to sit in the bed."

"Mmm, bed."

Henry led a non-protesting Shawn from the room.

Peter looked at Neal who had barely moved. "You too, Sleeping Beauty." He took Neal by the arm and helped him stand. He turned to the detectives. "Thank you." He then guided Neal from the room and after Gus and the Spencers.

* * *

Shawn felt reinvigorated as he stepped from the shower, the need for sleep no longer immediate. The steam had cleared the cobwebs from his brain and made him realize that his dad was right – not that he'd say it in front of witnesses. Their escape _had_ been too easy. Ridley had told them he was leaving. The convenient crates for them to stand on as well as the window with the view lent credence to the theory. Ridley had also studied Shawn so why bring him home? He had family and friends here as well as a good job where he made a difference and was respected… Crap! That was exactly what happened. Ridley wanted to discredit him, to tell everyone he wasn't psychic. They would have to find and stop him before the SBPD found out the truth.

Shawn changed into clothes from the duffle Gus had brought back from New York. When he reached the kitchen, Gus, Neal and Peter had already changed clothes. Peter was in a grey T-shirt and jeans while Neal continued with the country club look with a blue collared shirt with black pants. Gus was wearing a green V-neck shirt and khakis. "You're in Cali so why the collar? Even Gus is going without."

"Your dad has a collar," Neal pointed out.

Shawn looked at the garish print shirt his dad was wearing. "It's just that much more material to make us go blind."

After a lunch of sandwiches, chips and beer eaten at the picnic table, they debated the merits of California living as opposed to New York. Shawn and Neal threw other places into the mix while Peter talked about Quantico and Henry brought up Miami.

"C'mon, let's go for a walk," Shawn told Neal. "Your eyes keep looking at the water at every chance."

"Yeah, sure."

Shawn stood and looked at Gus. "Coming?"

His best friend practically jumped at the chance to get away from the two older men.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you two to go anywhere alone right now," said Peter. "Maybe we should all take a stroll, work off all this food."

"We won't be alone. Gus'll be with us." His father just glared at him but he wouldn't be deterred. "You know his piercing girly scream can set off car alarms for miles. And don't get me started on the dogs."

"Nobody said we have to walk together," put in Neal quickly to keep Henry from blowing a gasket. "If we keep within sight, that should be okay."

Peter looked at Henry. "That's fine with me."

"Fine," stated Henry, "but you see anything or feel anything wrong, you head back."

Knowing this was a major compromise for his dad, Shawn didn't argue. He nodded and headed out quickly before he changed his mind.

They made their way to the water's edge and Shawn rolled up the legs of his jeans and reveled in the feel of the cool water against his feet. Neal followed suit, wiggling his toes in the sand. "I haven't done this in ages,"

"Weren't you just in Cape Verde a few months ago?"

"It wasn't the same. I'm in the States using my real name and with friends."

"And a crime boss with a grudge," added Gus from a dry distance.

"Thanks, Gus. I was trying not to think about that. But now that you've brought it up…" He looked over his shoulder and Peter and his dad. "I think Ridley wants to expose me as a fake," he said in a hushed voice.

"I thought that in the drive from the airport," said Gus.

"And you didn't say anything?"

"When? When we were at the station surrounded by police or at lunch when it was the main topic being avoided?"

"Good point. Ridley said we ruined his life, right? So he's trying to ruin ours. If we didn't have that video, Neal would've been under suspicion for the theft of the chalice from the palace."

"At least it's not the flagon with the dragon," remarked Neal.

"So we need to get him before he tells anyone."

"Technically, it's a federal case as he abducted you across state lines," stated Gus. "Peter could claim this case."

"But if the police get to him first, there's nothing to keep him from talking, short of knocking him out," said Neal.

"Well…"

"Why are you trying to keep this away from your dad and Peter?" questioned Gus. "Peter figured out Ridley was after you as well and your dad was the one to point out your escape was too easy."

"Cmon, the three of us can do it ourselves. We can be like the Three Mouseketeers."

"More like the Three Stooges."

Shawn turned around. "Dad? How did you catch up?"

"You stopped." Henry stated.

Shawn looked down at his stationary feet. "Huh. Guess I did."

"You aren't planning on handling this yourselves, are you?" asked Peter. "You don't always have the best track record when you go alone," he said to Neal.

"I think I might be time to bring back Burke's Seven."

"Neal, I said no more."

"Burke's Seven?" There had to be a good story behind that.

"We set up a con-"

"A sting," Peter corrected.

"A _sting_," Neal continued, "to get the guy who set up Peter and shot Mozzie."

"We could so do that." Shawn was excited at the prospect. "We could use signals and code words…"

"It won't work," claimed Henry. "He knows who we are."

"You have a point. This needs more thought." There had to be a way to keep Ridley quiet short of killing him.


	8. Chapter 8

Lassiter and O'Hara found the house Spencer had described by reversing his escape route. He and his partner then walked the perimeter, spotting the broken basement window. They then knocked on the front door but there was no answer. He knocked again harder, called louder. No answer. Lassiter looked over to O'Hara and they both pulled out their guns. O'Hara gently turned the knob and there was no resistance.

As they entered the house, Lassiter's brain registered that it was empty. He didn't dwell on it until he and O'Hara checked the entire house. There was no sign of habitation other than the basement.

Lassiter sighed as he walked back to his car. This set-up only gave strength to the older Spencer's theory that the escape was planned. They'd know more when Forensics was done. He just hated not knowing the motive, the reason behind the action. Why would Ridley go through the trouble of drugging and abducting Spencer and Caffrey then transport them across the country only to let them escape? It only led him to believe that the kidnapping wasn't the main drive behind it. Plus, there was still the matter of the stolen chalice.

Lassiter turned around to face the house. There had to be something Ridley left behind, some sign of his plans. "At least Spencer isn't here."

O'Hara came over to him. "Forensics is on the way. I've also notified the Chief of what we found." She studied him. "What's wrong?"

"This whole case. This isn't Ridley's usual style. There's got to be something I'm missing."

"We could always-"

"No, we are not calling him in. He can't investigate his own kidnapping."

"You can tell him that," she said, looking over his shoulder with a smile.

Lassiter faced the road and saw a beat-up pickup truck and a blue clown car. "Kill me now," he prayed to the skies.

* * *

After they left Henry's (Mr. Spencer to his face), the plan was to stop and get new cell phones and then go either to the police station or Shawn's office. That was something he had a hard time wrapping his head around. Then again, he never expected Shawn to stay on one place for one year, let alone seven.

It was after the phones but before the next stop that Shawn convinced his father and Peter that they needed to go to the house where they had been held. Henry was a little reluctant but Peter was able to talk him around.

When they pulled up to the house, Shawn was positively giddy as he exclaimed, "Look, Jules and Lassie are here!"

Neal looked through the windshield from his spot in the back seat and he could see the two detectives standing on the sidewalk. Lassiter was looking Heavenward, probably asking to be struck down before having to deal with Shawn. He had known men like the Head Detective; no sense of humor unless it's at their own weak jokes. It was a sign of the man's willpower that he had put up with Shawn for as long as he had.

They got out of the car and Shawn practically bounded over while Neal and Gus followed at a more sedate pace.

"No, no, no!" Lassiter cried. "Spencer, you cannot be here investigating your own case!"

"If you don't want me around, Lassie, just say so."

"You can't be here, Shawn," Juliet said. "It's a conflict of interest."

"Neal and Shawn are here as witnesses in an ongoing FBI investigation," said Peter in his official voice. The T-shirt and jeans took a little bit away from the authority it would normally hold.

"You're pulling the FBI card? Really?"

"It's the reason he's here, Lassiter," said the elder Spencer. "You know Shawn can get more from a crime scene than you."

The two men glared at each other before Lassiter finally gave in. "Fine. Have at it. Don't touch anything. Forensics is on the way."

"He gave in too easy," muttered Gus as they walked up to the house.

"That was easy?"

"Normally he puts up more of a fight. Maybe it's because of Peter."

Neal had a feeling it was some other reason. He caught the detective's reflection in a window and saw a smirk. _Oh, it's definitely something else._

He stopped when he crossed the threshold, wondering why everyone else had as well. It took a moment to register that the rooms were completely empty. There was no furniture or rugs, nothing to show signs of habitation.

"Now I know was Lassie caved so quickly. This place looks like it's been picked clean." Shawn looked around the front rooms.

"The kitchen," said Neal. "He fed us breakfast. There might be something there."

"Yes!" Shawn led them to the kitchen. "Cereal and juice out of plastic bowls and cups."

"Easy clean-up," remarked Peter. "Less chance of breakage leaving remnants."

Shawn stood back and scanned the room. Neal knew about Shawn's observation skills, but it was something else to see it in action. Peter was watching with interest as well so that meant Shawn never got out in the field.

"Ah!" Shawn exclaimed and headed right for the narrow space between the counter and the sink. He leaned over and picked up something and held it out in his palm. "Breakfast is served."

Peter pulled an evidence bag from his pocket and held it open for Shawn. "It's something."

"One cereal flake does not connect Ridley to this house, Shawn," said Gus. "Who know how long that's been there?"

Neal peered at the innocuous flake. "There aren't any bugs and there's negligible dust, so I'd say not very long at all. Though if it had been one of those cereals that are 99.9% sugar, it would be anyone's guess."

"It's a good thing Ridley is more health conscious than my son."

"At best it's only circumstantial evidence," said Peter. "It doesn't place Ridley here."

"We saw him, Peter. If you can place us here, we can place him here."

"With a case of this magnitude, we need it to be airtight. That means physical evidence."

"There has to be something in the basement," stated Shawn. "There's gotta be fingerprints somewhere down there." His eyes lit up. "The bathroom door! He opened it to show us." He headed for the door off to the side of the room.

"Shawn, wait!" Henry called. "Don't-"

The door was slightly ajar so Shawn had no need to use his hands, just pushed it. Neal and Gus followed, keeping their hands from the rail. There was a hall at the base of the stairs, a couple of doors leading from it, one of which was an exit to the yard. The other door was open, which told Neal that someone had been here after they left, most likely to clean up.

"Whoa." Gus walks slowly into the room. "Are you sure this is the right place?"

"Yes, Gus, I'm sure. It's just… We waited too long."

Shawn stood in the middle of the room. The beds had been dismantled and pushed against the walls. The mattresses were gone. It now looked like a normal basement which drastically lessened their chances of finding anything.

They trudged upstairs. Even Shawn's normally buoyant personality was having trouble staying afloat. Neal knew what affect doing time would have on Shawn. It would break him and Neal could not let that happen. The world might never forgive him.

Outside, the CSU van had just pulled up and Lassiter was talking with the lead investigator. Peter pulled the evidence bag from his pocket just as his phone rang. Shawn grabbed the bag as Peter answered his phone and handed it to Juliet. Neal's attention was brought back to Peter when he heard Diana's name. It must not have been something they could discuss over the phone because the call ended rather quickly.

"What is it?"

"Diana and Jones found a possible lead but I didn't want to talk in the open." He looked over at Shawn who was still flirting with Juliet. "See if you can help Gus wrangle Shawn. I'll tell Henry about the phone call."

"You call him Henry?"

"Not to his face."

Chuckling, Neal walked over to Shawn and Gus.


	9. Chapter 9

This chapter is short but the next is twice as long so I hope that makes up for it! Thanks for reading.

* * *

Henry glanced at Peter while they were stopped at a red light. "These two agents of yours, they've been with you a long time?"

"They both were with me as probationary agents and both were there when Shawn was. He kind of endeared himself to everyone despite the short time he was there."

"How long was that?"

"Four days."

Henry cracked a smile. "Sounds like Shawn. I don't know where he gets it from."

"Must come in handy getting people to open up."

"A great asset for a cop."

Henry heard Peter take a breath and knew he was in for some criticism. Thankfully, the light changed and he could concentrate on the road.

"Mr. Spencer, I know I'm risking our new-found trust, but you do realize that you're the one who kept Shawn from ever becoming a cop the moment you arrested him."

"You know about the arrest? Of course you do. You did a background check. What else do you know?"

"I know that when he left New York, he decided to come back here because you were gone. I've noticed over the past few days that when Shawn speaks of you, it's no longer with anger. He does love you, Mr. Spencer."

"Henry."

"What?"

"If you're gonna get familiar enough to talk about my relationship with Shawn, you might as well call me Henry."

"Peter." The agent grinned.

"What?'

"Neal and I were kind of…nervous to call you that."

"Has Shawn painted me as some sort of ogre?"

"A bit of one, yeah. But the first I had heard of it was while you were still estranged. Now, seeing you both, I get it."

"Do you have kids?"

"Does Neal count?"

Henry chuckled. "Ever since he was a kid, Shawn would always take risks, dares, without thinking of the consequences. We were on a first name basis with the ER staff by the time he was seven. I tried to get him to think ahead like chess." Henry remembered Shawn naming the pieces after _The A-Team_. "I may have been strict, but I was afraid he'd do some stupid stunt and kill himself."

"Plus being the son of a policeman increased the odds of abduction."

"Yeah. We did have lessons for what to do and, thankfully, he didn't need to use it until a few years ago."

They pulled up in front of Psych and Henry felt a swell of pride wash over him as it did each time. Yeah, he didn't approve of the whole "psychic" thing, but his boy was helping people the way he knew how. Henry liked to believe he'd had a hand in it.

Peter whistled in appreciation as he undid his seatbelt. "Nice place. Waterfront. Must not be cheap."

"I think he smooth-talked his way into a good deal and then used Gus' card."

Both men got out of the truck and walked up to the front door. It was unlocked – as usual. He was surprised that no one had robbed the place yet or attempted GBH.

Peter looked around the office. It was an odd mix of office, living room and high school. "The lockers are a nice touch," he commented.

"I don't know what possessed him." Henry handed him a cold bottle of water. "Some school closed and was auctioning off stuff."

The door slammed and the three younger men entered sipping on smoothies. Shawn saw them. "Dad, why do you keep coming in when I'm not here?"

"You keep leaving your door unlocked."

Shawn turned to Gus. "Dude, you gotta remember to lock up."

Gus merely rolled his eyes. They all knew Shawn was the culprit.

Henry didn't care if he came across as an ogre as long as it kept his boy safe.


	10. Chapter 10

Gus sat at his desk and powered up the laptop to allow Peter to Skype with Diana and Jones to discuss the case. He typed in the address Peter had given him and sent the request.

"Okay. Any second now."

"Great!" Shawn used his wheeled chair to push Gus out of the way so he was front and center when the call connected.

"Shawn!" Gus pulled himself back using the desk and pushed Shawn so both would get screen time.

Shawn, of course, had to push back and that was what they were doing when Jones and Diana saw them.

"Hey! Guys!" Jones shouted.

Gus stopped and looked at the screen allowing Shawn one last shove.

"Hey!" Shawn called in greeting. "You're both looking good. Like the new suit, Jonesy."

"Shawn, you haven't seen all my suits. Of course it would be new to you."

"No, I mean new as in bought last week. Cut looks good on you."

"That's what I told him when he bought it," Neal said as he walked over, still sipping his smoothie.

"Caffrey."

"Diana, looking lovely as ever."

"It's only been two days."

"Is that all? So much has happened." He peered at the screen. "Are you at Peter's?"

"What?" Peter hurried over and Gus and Shawn were pushed out of the way as he leaned in to talk to his agents. "Why are you at my house?"

"Hey, hon."

Gus heard El's voice as he came back to stand behind Peter and next to Neal. He waved. "Hi, El."

"Hey, Gus. And Neal, you look no worse for wear. Love the casual look."

Shawn maneuvered his way in from the side in front of Peter. "I tried to get him to ditch the collar completely, but he wouldn't. Hiya, El."

"Hi, Shawn. Looking good for having been kidnapped."

"A simple cross-country kidnapping can't keep me down," Shawn grinned.

"Or your hair," Gus muttered.

"Enough of the niceties," growled Henry. "What about the case?"

"I don't know who he is, but I like him already." Mozzie appeared next to El.

"Guys, this is Mr. Party McPooper, also known as Henry Spencer, my dad."

There was a chorus of "hellos" from New York.

Henry's right," said Peter. "We need to track down Ridley before the police or he'll expose Shawn's secret. If they believe him, that will mean an investigation and every case he worked on could be re-opened."

"That could allow those he put away to be set free," added Gus. There was no reason to tell them that both he and Shawn would be facing prison – as would Henry if word got out that he knew. He was surprised that Peter would risk his career for someone he worked with for four days, eight years ago. Then again, it was Shawn.

It seemed that the others in New York were willing to take the risk as well because they didn't even bat an eye at the possible outcome. _It must be because of Neal_, thought Gus.

"We tracked down a couple of possible buyers for the chalice," Jones told them. "They're both only a few hours away." He looked down to check his notes. "Cameron James in Palm Springs and Anton Reid in Fresno."

"If we can get to him outside Santa Barbara, it'll solve everything! Jules and Lassie won't have jurisdiction."

"But that won't keep him from running his mouth off," stated Henry.

Everyone was quiet as they realized the truth in that statement. _He really is Mr. Party McPooper._

"_Gaslight_!" called Mozzie. Everybody looked at him. "We Gaslight him."

"We make him think he's crazy?" questioned Peter.

"No," Neal grinned. "We make everyone else think he's crazy."

"And how do we do that?" asked Diana. "Telling that someone is a fake psychic isn't as out-there as saying he's an alien."

"Yeah, haven't thought of that yet."

"Peter, I sent you the names and addresses," said Jones. "We'll keep researching on this side."

"Great. Thanks."

"Neal, Shawn, glad to see you're both okay."

"Just try not to get kidnapped again," added Diana.

"Hey, not everybody can restrain themselves wanting all this," Shawn motioned to his body, "to themselves."

_To torture and maim, shoot and kill,_ Gus thought as he remembered Drimmer, Longmore and Rollins. At least he knew what to do if he felt a panic attack coming on.

The call ended with goodbyes and "love yous" from the Burkes and promises from Mozzie to keep looking for ways to quiet Ridley. Gus really did not want to know.

Henry uncrossed his arms and finished his water. "I'm gonna head back home. Peter, do you want a lift or do you want to fold yourself into Gus' car?"

"What happened to not leaving us alone in case Ridley was still around?" Shawn asked his dad.

"Because I _know_ you will follow us right over there, no detours."

Gus knew from experience that this was full-on Papa Bear mode. Henry had learned not to order Shawn all the time. He used words like "trust", "know" and "believe" to make Shawn feel guilty. Granted, Shawn usually didn't feel it until after-the-fact, but it was there.

"Thanks, Henry."

With a nod, Henry left and Peter headed for the door.

"Hey, Peter," Neal called.

Peter stopped and turned around, hand held up to ward off thanks.

"You can call him Henry?"

"Believe me, I earned it." He left the office.

"Okay, that makes me a little nervous," said Shawn as he stared at the office door.

"Why?" Gus wanted to know.

"The two of them bonded enough to be on a first-name basis. And what do they have in common?"

Neal smiled. "Man, Peter must have commented on your dad's parenting skills. That would definitely be 'earning' it."

"Oh, God, why?" Shawn buried his head in his hands.

"Peter saw your relationship with your dad before and after you reconciled. As an outside observer, he probably felt he had to say something. The fact that you were just kidnapped most likely made your dad more receptive to Peter's argument." Gus stopped when he saw Shawn with a glazed look in his eyes, already zoned out. _It's probably time for another feeding._

"Why don't I take him outside?" volunteered Neal. "There should be a vendor – or five – to hold him over until dinner. "You get what you need and we'll be outside."

"I'm not sure…"

"I promise, Shawn will not drive off."

Gus hesitated. Shawn could be playing at this and bolt at the first opportunity. He looked around the office. There wasn't that much that he needed, so Shawn wouldn't have too much time to get into trouble. "OK, I'll be right out. Don't let him out of your sight."

"You have my word. C'mon, Shawn." Neal ushered the other man out of the office.

Gus shut off the computer and slipped it into a drawer and locked it. Shawn's was already locked away. He checked the windows and the back door to make sure they were secure. He made sure the faucets weren't running and that they fridge door was completely closed. It was just as he was leaving the office that he heard a familiar engine. He rushed to the lot in time to see his company car pull away. At least Neal kept his promise; it wasn't Shawn driving away.

"Mr. Spencer is gonna kill me."


	11. Chapter 11

Lassiter leaned back in his chair and took a swig of his lukewarm coffee. The preliminary forensics report from the house revealed nothing to confirm Spencer's story that Ridley had held them there. He had garnered some strange looks when he had handed over the cereal flake, but they analyzed in anyway. According to them, it couldn't have been out more than two days. It supported Spencer's account, but no ties to Ridley.

He was rubbing his eyes when O'Hara sat at her desk.

"Still no luck?" She placed a bear claw on the desk in front of him.

Lassiter stared at the offending pastry, sitting on its little paper plate in the middle of his file. He couldn't get to the documents without moving the sugar-laden confection.

"I know you haven't eaten," she said. "You can't live on coffee, no matter how hard you try."

He rolled his eyes at her mothering, but picked up the pastry and took a bite. It was heavenly! He schooled his features so O'Hara wouldn't know how much he enjoyed it.

"So?" she prompted.

Lassiter swallowed. "There was nothing in that house to tie it to Ridley. I know Spencer's not holding back. We found everything just how he said. It begs the question why? Why did Ridley abduct the two of them in the first place? Why bring them to California, especially knowing this is where Spencer's from?"

"Maybe he wanted them to take the fall?"

"Then why make it easy for them to get away? I'm starting to agree with Burke's theory that Ridley wants to discredit Spencer."

"Do you think he wants us to doubt Shawn and that he was held at that house with Caffrey?"

"The FBI has footage of Ridley taking them at gunpoint. Can't pretend that didn't happen."

O'Hara thought for a moment. "He could say the whole thing was their idea. He took the chalice while Shawn and Caffrey were in another part of the museum creating an alibi with the camera. Ridley takes them to where they can split the money from the sale of the chalice and go their separate ways." She sighed. "That sounds stupid out loud."

"No, it could be a credible theory – if it weren't Spencer."

"Carlton? You're supporting Shawn?"

"When he first showed up, I wouldn't have put something like that past him. Now, I think he has too much here to just walk away."

The look on her face was the one she always had right before she started hugging. Thankfully, McNab arrived at that point, saving him from being squeezed.

"Detectives, going by the criteria you gave me, I've narrowed down two possible buyers for the chalice. One's in Fresno and the other's in Palm Springs."

Lassiter grabbed the files from the overgrown puppy's paws. "Now we've got a concrete lead."

"Yeah, outside out jurisdiction," stated O'Hara.

Lassiter started walking towards the Chief's office. "We'll talk to the Chief to see if she can flex some political muscle so we can interview these guys." Outside the office, he realized his partner hadn't followed. "C'mon, O'Hara. If we wait too long, we'll lose him."

She said something to McNab before joining him. He knocked on the office door, heard a muffled "enter", and opened the door.

* * *

When they had walked out of Psych, Shawn had headed for the vendors. Neal had pulled him by the arm, virtually spinning him 180 °. "What the hell?"

"We have a very small window. C'mon." Neal had hurried him towards the Blueberry.

Shawn had grinned. "But what about your promise to Gus?"

"I said you wouldn't drive away. I didn't say anything about myself."

Now they were on the highway headed towards Palm Springs. Neal was enjoying himself behind the wheel; something about "invigorating".

"Do you get to drive in New York?"

"Only when I can get the keys from Peter."

"So, no."

"No. A lot of walking. This makes a change. I think it's my first real road trip."

"I think this is my first road trip I didn't instigate. I didn't even have to drug you."

"You didn't."

"Slipped 'em into his Frosty and he didn't wake up until Palo Alto. He was so pissed, we argued in texts." He pulled out his phone to check for angry texts.

"It's a new phone. Did you get the numbers in?"

"First thing. He's gone to Dad and Peter by now. They're probably already after us."

"Ah, that's if they can figure out which way we went. Two different directions and only one car. I don't think they'll call the police on us."

"It depends on how mad Gus is. This is a company car and I think it's fitted with low jack."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Neal sighed. "It's too late now to disable it. They'll know which way we're heading – if they remember."

"Oh, he'll remember. Hopefully, we'll already have things in hand."

They drove on, the radio the only sound. They'd barely gone a mile when Neal spoke. "What's the plan?"

"I thought you had one since you're doing the driving."

"I thought you were faking the zone-out to ditch Gus." He chuckled. "I was following your lead."

"When you offered to take me outside, I went along." Shawn looked over at Neal. "We need to come up with a code word."

"We still have time."

Shawn thought on what the two of them could do alone, unarmed and without backup. _Schtall! I'm good at running off at the mouth and Neal, well, he's a retired professional._ "We play the buyers against each other," he said. "It's a small community and they'd know each other and compete."

"We can say he's inflated the price."

"Yeah, but will he believe us?"

"Shawn, I am hurt." Neal put a hand to his heart. "This is my raison d'être."

"Plus ça change…"

"Did you speak French?"

"Calm yourself, Gomez. I picked up a few things on my travels. I'm not just a pretty face, you know."

"So, your whole…thing, that's just an act?"

"As a former criminal, would you have worried about a guy who flaps his arms about and makes 80s references? If I started acting serious all the time, people would expect it and that's just not me."

Wow, he had never really explained his actions like that before. The closest had probably been the first time they had gone up against Yang and he had told Gus that he needed the jokes to keep him from going crazy. It was a major defense mechanism. Like DefCon 5. He had been getting more serious recently. He could attribute it to being with Juliet, but if he really had to pinpoint when it started, he'd say when Mary died in his arms. Up to that point, he could distance himself but that moment made death "real".

A sign at the window caught his eye. "Our exit's coming up."

"Okay." Neal spared him a glance as he switched lanes. "You ready for this?"

Shawn shut the door to the introspective and moody part of his brain and let the spontaneous bits have full control. "Oh, yeah. You and me are gonna run circles around these guys."

"I thought the only running you did was away from the guys with guns?"

Shawn laughed. "That's the kind of running I do the most."

With the tension eased. Shawn felt a whole lot better. The mopes were gone and he was about to confront a criminal in his lair. What could possibly—A whole hell of a lot, actually.


End file.
